


Let's get caught downtown in the whirlwind

by lesbianbean



Series: you want the world/well what's it worth? [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, American Politics, Bad Flirting, Boss/Employee Relationship, Campaign trail drama, Class Issues, F/F, Morally grey women who reluctantly fall in love with each other, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Power Dynamics, Rule 63, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, The American Southwest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbean/pseuds/lesbianbean
Summary: Megatron wants to be majority whip. Starscream's ambition is barely overriding her desire to be anywhere but Texas. Soundwave really wants both of them to just shut the fuck up.The story of a campaign from hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The requisite Job Interview Scene. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

It was a chilly March day, the kind of weather that always had the shrapnel injury in the senator’s knee acting up. Megatron could also feel a tension headache coming on by the time the sixth candidate for campaign manager had politely exited. Soundwave slid a bottle of Advil across the antique desk before she could ask, and she gave her a nod of thanks.

“Who’s left? We’re already behind schedule.”

Soundwave paused briefly. “One more person. Here’s her resume.” Megatron studied it, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s quite impressive. Only twenty-eight and four successful races under her belt? And she has incredible connections--a member of Alpha Chi Omega from Stanford and she interned for a number of prominent lobbyists. Wait. Is this that Vos Airlines heiress that _Teen Vogue_ profiled last month? Why on earth didn’t you give me her resume first?”

Soundwave avoided her eyes. “Starscream is known for having a bit of an...attitude problem. I didn’t want someone who has a personality that might be incompatible with your own.”

“You worry too much, Soundwave. Send her in.”

Soundwave gave a tiny sigh and got up to open the door.

“Come in.”

She heard the clicking of high heels on tile, and then the door swung wide, nearly breaking Soundwave’s nose, and a young women swept in. “Do you make a habit of keeping your job candidates waiting for hours?”

Megatron gave her a once-over, lingering on her short skirt and stilettos. She had expected another one of the typical D.C. overachievers--someone who was embodied the “serious political professional” aesthetic--and the candidate was definitely not that. “Starscream, I presume?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Somehow, she managed to make that three-word sentence sound sarcastic. Her handshake was quick, only two pumps. Megatron held her hand for a moment more, a tactic she’d learned back in the Navy to throw people off balance. Starscream met her eyes.

“You’re the scourge of the Senate?”

“And you’re the prodigy who won four unwinnable races in as many years.” The girl practically preened at that, sitting in the chair across from Megatron’s desk like she belonged there. Megatron noticed that she glanced down at her nails like she was worried their handshake had somehow chipped her flawless sky-blue manicure. “It’s interesting. I would have expected someone a bit...older.”

“Excuse me?” Starscream’s voice pitched up several octaves and she put a hand on her chest like a hammy daytime television actress. Behavior like this usually made Megatron furious but she actually found herself forcing down a laugh. Odd. “What the hell are you implying? Is it the outfit? Because as a rule, I don’t take fashion advice from someone who clearly bought her suit back when Jimmy Carter was president!”

“Soundwave?” Megatron gave her a meaningful look. “Could you bring me a glass of water, please?”

Soundwave quietly rose, picking up the files for the other job candidates. Starscream glanced up. “Oh, me too, whatever-your-name-is. Slice of lemon.”

Soundwave ignored her, nodding at Megatron--somehow conveying an eternity’s worth of annoyance in that one tiny gesture, how _did_ she do it?-- and closing the door behind her. Starscream looked over her shoulder a little nervously and then turned back to the senator, schooling her features. Megatron picked up her resume and pretended to study it, letting the silence stretch out between them. She’d used this trick before, it was one of her favorites. Waiting her prey out. Starscream cracked after about thirty seconds.

“Do most of your job interviews go like this?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, I suppose I expected someone with your reputation to have read my resume beforehand instead of keeping me waiting.”

“You graduated top of your class at Stanford.” Megatron put her resume in a folder on her desk and walked over to look out the window, deceptively casual. She could see the younger woman reflected in the window behind her, nervously folding her hands in her lap. “A number of impressive internships. Unpaid, I assume?”

“Yes. What does that matter?”

Megatron had never had an unpaid internship in her life. By the time she was Starscream’s age she was working two different minimum wage jobs when she wasn’t serving as a staff sergeant in the Navy. Lots of her classmates had connections from long summers spent working for nothing, but that was never something someone like her had the opportunity to do.

“Just curious. And a member of a sorority. I imagine that gives you some connections.”

Starscream rolled her eyes.“I sure as hell didn’t do it for the sparkling conversation.”

There was that urge to laugh again. Had anyone taught the girl manners? She was always baffled by the kind of nonsense that new money got away with. Soundwave returned with the water, whispering. “Say you have a meeting, I’ll show her out.” to Megatron, but she shook her head. This was interesting, and she so _rarely_ got to indulge in anything interesting.

“It’s all right, Soundwave. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” Soundwave looked reluctant but ducked back out of the room, leaving them alone again. Megatron took a long sip of water, hearing the younger woman fidgeting in her chair.

“So where do you see yourself in ten years, Starscream?”

Starscream shrugged theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure all that out.”

“I’m quite good at detecting bullshit, you know. You’re trying to decide what color you’d paint this office right now, aren’t you?”

Starscream choked on her water. “I--”

“I’ve met a lot of girls like you.” Megatron walked behind her chair, wondering if Starscream would cede ground by turning to look at her. She tensed but kept staring straight ahead. “Rich, pretty, incredibly ambitious. They flounce into town with big plans and then it chews them up and spits them out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You want a lot of things, don’t you, Starscream? But it’s not enough to _want_ something. You have to know how to fight for it.”

Starscream was glaring the antique rug, determinedly not looking at her. Her knuckles were white on the glass of water as she cautiously took another sip. She had an elegant throat, Megatron thought absently. “Power is never given freely, it must be taken. I know your speech. And you know what else I know? Time. Time makes things possible. I can wait.”

 _Oh_. Megatron slowly walked back to her desk, feeling Starscream’s calculating eyes on her as she sat back down. “All right. Well, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes and I’ve seen six candidates already today. Convince me to hire you.” She folded her hands in front of her and looked at Starscream expectantly. _Go ahead, princess. Impress me._

“You--well--you want to be majority whip, right? The seat’s open and you’re the obvious choice. Lots of people like that huge infrastructure reform bill you got through in the last session, it put you on the map in a huge way..” Starscream punctuated each point she made with quick, sharp gestures, her fingers tracing nonsensical shapes and patterns in the air. “But you’re...unconventional. For a lot of reasons. And then there’s Prime.” She looked closely at Megatron’s face. Ah. So she knew about that rivalry. Of course, most people with any knowledge of Washington knew her feelings about Senator Prime. “She’s powerful too, and she wouldn’t want you as whip, because you’d get to control the Senate message from the floor. That’s bad for her and her little do-gooder coalition, and worse for her presidential ten-year plan. And wouldn’t you know it, one of her guys also lives in Texas, the proverbial favorite son of Governor Ironhide and he’s been getting funding from their PAC.” She waved the glass for emphasis, nearly spilling the remaining water. “Prime knows she doesn’t have to beat you, she just has to show that you don’t have a mandate. If you win the primary, you’ll be likely to win the general no matter what, but a narrow victory won’t make you whip.”

“A political science professor would be impressed with your analysis, but you’ll have to do better to interest me.”

Starscream _grinned_ at that, bouncing a little in her seat. “Well, you can’t win by wrecking him in public. That would look good, and it might appeal to your base, but it’ll make donors skittish and you’ll need them when you start making a play for the whip’s office. That’s really why I’m here, isn’t it? I’m on a first-name basis with most of the contractors for the military, and I’ve worked for a number of the rising West Coast technology giants. And I’m in D.C. right now as an envoy for Vos Airlines. You bring me on and it’s a go sign to them. They pull out their checkbooks. And if you have them, boom, you have the swing senators from California and Nevada when the whip race starts.” She gestured at the map behind the senator’s head.

“But you’d need to win me the campaign first.”

She leaned forward, mirroring Megatron’s position, her eyes glittering. “I don’t lose campaigns. So, why don’t you tell me why I should work for you?”

Megatron stood slowly, placing her hands flat on the desk. She’d gotten very good at using her height and strength to her advantage, and it was always satisfying to see lobbyists and journalists and her own colleagues cower before her. Starscream shivered but didn’t look away.

“Because you want _meaning_ in your life, don’t you? Managing congressional races? Lobbying for technology companies? Please. I can feel the hunger coming off of you in waves. You want _more_. And if you work for me, that’s what you’ll have. More.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Starscream was opening her mouth to respond when Soundwave stuck her head in. “Senator, your meeting?”

Starscream actually jumped, startled, and Megatron turned to hide her smile. “Of course, Soundwave. Starscream, it has been a pleasure.” Starscream set her glass on the desk and stood, shaking Megatron’s outstretched hand. “We’ll be in touch shortly.”  
Starscream nodded sharply and flounced out of the office.

“So.” Soundwave closed the door. “I can only assume—“

“I want her.” Megatron said. Soundwave gave a tiny sigh of disappointment.

“May I inquire as to why?”

“She’s smart. And she has better connections than anyone else on the list.”

“Understood. But her attitude is--”

“We can keep her in line, can’t we? I’ve certainly dealt with more...intimidating foes.”

“Senator.” Soundwave paused, clearly considering her next words. “Are you sure that Starscream’s resume is what you’re interested in?”

The senator’s smile disappeared, and she gave Soundwave a meaningful look. Soundwave was one of the very few people who could ask her questions like that. And maybe her doubts about Starscream were justified, but Megatron wasn’t worried.

“She can be useful to us. I won’t deny that she’s pretty, but I’m not the type to risk my career on pretty girls. Especially not ones who behave like that.”

Even as she said it, she found herself thinking of the raw ambition in the girl’s eyes as she dissected the upcoming primary, her enthusiastic sweeping gestures.  
______________________________

Starscream could feel her heart thumping like she’d just run a marathon. Her idiot Uber driver attempted to make conversation, but she shot him down quickly.

 _“I can feel the hunger coming off of you in waves_ ”

Her face burned. Dear God, what _was_ that? Who the fuck did the senator think she was?

She thought back to the first time she’d heard the woman speak, years ago. It was two in the morning and she had been watching a clip of floor debate for Intro to Political Science class. The class was at eight and she needed to write something, anything. She’d been banging out two or three sentences and then deleting them in disgust, contemplating just dropping the fucking class, and then she’d seen Megatron, a congresswoman in her first term but already walking out onto the floor like she owned it. Her voice was low but captivating, and Starscream had hung on to every word. It suddenly hadn’t mattered that she was exhausted.

Needless to say, she got the assignment done.

Of course, she wasn’t a stupid naive college freshman anymore, she was a ruthless “rising star in the political universe,” as _Teen Vogue_ put it, with plenty of experience dealing with intimidating megalomaniacs. It took more than pretty words to impress her.

The driver interrupted her thoughts. “Here we are. Have a nice day, honey.”

“Don’t call me ‘honey,’ asshole.”

Starscream hurried into the nearest Starbucks. A headache was fast approaching, and she wasn’t dealing with that on top of everything else.

“I want an venti iced white chocolate mocha with three extra shots. Blonde espresso.”

An electronic burst of sound startled her and she jumped before realizing what it was--her twin sister, calling again. She rolled her eyes and muted the phone, snatching up her drink and walking across the street to her Dupont Circle apartment. Starscream had been living in DC for three months, since the CEO of Vos Airlines insisted they needed someone with political experience to lobby for a military budget bill.

The apartment was frustratingly small, especially considering its exorbitant price. Washington real estate was absolute _shit_. She could have invested in something better, but that would have meant that she was officially living in Washington, and she didn’t want to live there permanently. She didn’t want to live anywhere permanently. The ground floor apartment window looked out on the parking lot and she thought longingly back to the view from her room in California. When she opened the window and stood on her balcony, all she could see was the sky, blue and endless and free. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was flying.

Her phone vibrated again, but she ignored it, shoving the scattered piles of paper off her bed so she could lie down and pressing the cool cup to her head.

The phone rang a third time and she gave in, grabbing it with an exasperated sigh.

“Skywarp, what the hell is so important?”

“The _interview_! I’ve been dying to hear about it all day. TC wants to hear about it too, don’t you?”

There was a rustle and then Starscream heard a wry “Sure.”

“What’s there to tell?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Screamer--”

“Stop calling me that, dammit.”

“You just had an interview with one of the most powerful senators in Washington and you’re being coy with the details?”

Starscream took a long drag of her mocha, sniffing primly. “She can’t be that powerful if she’s bringing on a new campaign manager for a third-term primary election.”

Skywarp started to say something but Thundercracker cut in first. “You know full well she’s making a play for majority whip next year. ” God, out of all the available women in California her sister had to fall in love with her know-it-all former college roommate.

“No, I hadn’t thought of that, TC. Didn’t you know I live under a rock?”

“What was she like?” Her twin sister sounded like a kid on Christmas morning, and she actually cringed with secondhand embarrassment. “Is she as tall as she is on TV?”

“No.” _Yes._

“You must have been disappointed. I distinctly remember you saying--”

“--Skywarp, don’t you fucking dare--”

“That you’d, quote: ‘climb that like a tree.’” Starscream squeezed her phone so hard it almost snapped, her head throbbing.

“I was drunk and it was finals week! If you ever bring that up again, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Yeah, finals week.” Thundercracker cut in. “After you wrote your thesis on her use of political rhetoric.”

“It was purely academic.”

“What was she like in real life?”

“Arrogant.” She thought of the woman’s hands on the folder-- _she had a fucking folder with her name on it_ \-- her short practical nails, and then her stupid traitorous brain cued up the memory of their handshake, the Senator’s warm fingers brushing against her wrist. “With horrible fashion sense.”

“Do you think you got it?”

“Probably not, thank God. There’s no way in hell that I’m staying in Texas for more than forty-eight hours.” Starscream pulled out her laptop. It had been a long day and she was due for some fucking Food Network. “So are you two still getting married or something?”

“Hell yes! We went to a cake tasting today and it was amazing. I liked the red velvet--”

“--It’s too rich--”

“--You ate more of it than I did, TC.”

Starscream half-listened, opening her email. Her heart sank at the all the new ones she’d gotten, mostly spam. Skywarp’s chatter wasn’t the worst background noise, it almost made it possible for her to pretend she was back in California.

“They kept insisting that they only made three flavors of frosting, but I swear the website said that they had raspberry and--”

“Holy shit.” She sat up so quickly that her mocha nearly slipped out of her hand.

“Starscream, are you okay?”

“I just--I got the fucking job!”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! Oh my God.” She stared at the email, not totally believing it, skimming over the words again and again in the hopes that her brain would actually process them. “Call you back.”  
_Cutthroat Kitchen_ would have to wait. She was going to be the campaign manager for the next Senate Majority Whip. After this--god, the sky was the fucking limit. With that kind of access, her “congresswoman-in-ten-years” plan could be cut down to seven, maybe five years. She clicked over to her “Running for Office” spreadsheet and began to adjust the timeline. It took another five minutes for it to hit her, and when it did she groaned, excitement draining out of her as she realized. Oh, God. She was going to fucking _Texas_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess who's Back on Her Bullshit?  
> Anyway, I literally Could Not stop thinking about this AU, and it spawned this massive undertaking. On the plus side, I know a lot more about Texas now--did you know that the Magnolia Cafe in Austin has a sign in front of it that says "Sorry, We're Open?"  
> This is set five years before the one-shot that I also wrote in this AU, if anyone is curious about the timeline.  
> If you'd like to talk more about this AU, hmu at carsandqueertheory.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream hates Texas, she hates her boss and she's going to quit. She really is. Any day now.

The first time Starscream thought _I’m fucking quitting_ was when she stepped out of the Dallas airport and immediately got blasted by a wave of heat so overwhelming her sunglasses fogged up.

The second time was when she got a call from Soundwave at four-thirty in the fucking morning, less than twenty minutes after she’d _finally_ fallen asleep for a strategy meeting where no one listened to any of her suggestions and the senator wasn’t even decent enough to provide complimentary pastries. Time number three was when she took a sip of the hotel coffee. By the end of the week, the number was in the high triple digits and still growing.

Campaigns were always a complete shitshow, even for someone like her, who thrived on chaos. But this--this was whole new kind of torture. And it wasn’t the heat, or the shitty diner food, or Soundwave’s stupid kids blasting their terrible hipster music as they worked on the polling algorithms.

Well, she supposed those things didn’t help. But the worst thing, the thing that had her ready to book a one-way flight to literally anywhere else was the senator. The condescending, overbearing, _idiot_ of a senator, with her stupid unfashionable grey pantsuits and broad shoulders and dark, mesmerizing eyes. Megatron had barely spoken to her after the obligatory “welcome aboard” comments, except to shoot down any suggestions she made or explain to her exactly why her ideas were stupid. 

Normally, condescension didn’t bother Starscream. She was used to people smirking when they saw her, with her too-high heels and--well, other people called it an “attitude problem,” but other people were idiots. Assumptions about her made it all the more satisfying when they saw exactly what she could do and flinched back in fear and grudging respect.  
In every other race she’d worked on, she’d been able to earn the respect of the candidate, to get them to fucking _listen_ to her about the issues she was an expert on. But that never happened with Megatron. Megatron always thought her ideas were terrible. Every time they were in the same room, she felt the woman’s dark eyes on her. Watching. Waiting for her to fail so she could outline all of the reasons why in intricate, punishing detail.

__________________________________

“You’re twenty minutes late.” Megatron was studying a printout of farming statistics with Soundwave, wearing her stupid reading glasses. Starscream dropped on the couch and slurped her mocha as loudly as she could, just to be annoying.

“The line at the Starbucks was fucking insane.”

“Your hotel room provides you with a coffee machine, I would recommend you learn how to use it.”

She snorted, nearly choking on her drink. “I would literally rather die than drink another cup of that dishwater.”

“If you’re late again, I can make that happen.”

Starscream knew that continuing to bait her boss was a bad idea, but she slurped her mocha again. Without looking away from the file, Megatron reached over and snatched the drink out of her hands, casually tossing it in the trash can.

“Hey! I paid five dollars for that.”

“Shut up. Soundwave, what exactly is the reason for the decline in sorghum growth?” 

Soundwave wordlessly spun her laptop towards Megatron. “Ah. So we do need to rethink our climate change platform.” Starscream craned her neck, but she couldn’t see what was on the screen, so she stood up with an irritated sigh and leaned over the desk. 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to package it as part of the farming plank? I mean, this is obviously because of climate change, but people know you have an excellent environmental voting record. If you were smart, you’d sell this as part of your jobs program.”  
Megatron didn’t even look up from the screen. “If you want to work for someone who hides unpleasant truths, you should go work for Prime. I’m not trojan-horsing an issue to make it more palatable. My constituents deserve better than that.”

Starscream rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s very _noble_ of you, but statistics show that swing voters respond better to the topic of jobs then they do to climate change. I’ll be real with you, Senator--people don’t like it when you tell them the truth.”

“And I’m sure you know all about the people of Texas, given the time you’ve spent talking to them?”

“Oh, fuck off with that ‘Starbucks-drinking elitist’ crap. You hired me to win you the campaign and I’m telling you how to do it.”

“No, I hired you to _manage_ the campaign. And you’ve done a terrific job, really. How late was she today, Soundwave?”

Soundwave didn’t look up from her phone. “Twenty-two minutes.”

“Did you fucking time it to make a point? That’s real mature.”

“You’re the last person to be lecturing anyone on what’s mature, princess.”

Blood roared in her ears. “If you call me that again, I swear to god--”

After that, the conversation deteriorated into primarily ad hominem attacks. Midway through a rant about Starscream’s inability to secure an endorsement (which she was going to get done, it wasn’t _her_ fault her boss was so impatient), Megatron’s phone went off and she turned her back on Starscream to answer it, which was somehow worse than any of what she’d said in the previous fifteen minutes. Starscream decided to make her escape before she said something that got her fired. Or just threw Soundwave’s laptop at her boss’ stupid head.

______________________________

And now she was sitting in the back of a stuffy community center, trying to ignore Soundwave’s twins, who were chattering loudly about a band she’d never heard of. Skywarp wasn’t responding to her texts because she was off hiking at the Redwood State Park with Thundercracker, doing stupid happy couple things, and of course she didn’t _care_ , but it would have been nice to have _someone_ to talk to about how horrible Texas was. Starscream scrolled through the Vos Airlines website, looking at flights--there was a red-eye to San Francisco tonight, another flight early tomorrow morning, and she could just go, damn the consequences. Sleep in her apartment, her _real_ apartment, with its huge arching glass windows and sci-fi movie posters on the walls.

At the very least, she could break into the pack of cigarettes that was currently sitting in her purse. Usually, she tried not to start smoking until the last week of the campaign, when everything was frayed right down to the wire, but she’d found herself desperately feeding quarters into the ancient hotel vending machine after the earlier strategy meeting. The crisp edges of the box felt oddly comforting, and she traced them absently, counting the corners over and over again until the numbers stopped meaning anything. If she thought she could get away with it, she would just go outside and smoke in the parking lot for the rest of the event.

“Good evening.”

Megatron had risen and she was addressing the crowd. Starscream knew what she was going to say--they had fought over the exact wording on the car ride over. She’d read every speech the senator had made, back when she was a stressed-out over-caffeinated mess writing her thesis, spending whole nights in the library. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back there, highlighting phrases and listening to snippets of the woman’s steady voice. 

But something about being there in person was...different. There was something about the senator's eyes, the way she stood, that had Starscream putting her phone down and just staring, listening to the words like she had heard them for the first time. 

“It is not enough to wait for victory. People in power do not give up what they have. We must take it from them, _demand_ it. Because it is our right.”

Her dark eyes flashed, and Starscream was vaguely aware that she had risen to her feet with the rest of the crowd. People were shouting, chanting Megatron’s name, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who among us hasn't made important life decisions based on a Really Good Speech?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To paraphrase my friend ballpoint_banana: "A good way to deal with writer's block is to just throw a gala at it."

Political galas were a fact of life, just like death and taxes. Megatron knew this, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. She didn’t mind being in large rooms full of wealthy arrogant people, that was what her job entailed, but at galas, they all had to smile for the cameras and pretend they didn’t hate each other. Journalists always loved to get pictures of her and Prime shaking hands or standing near each other at buffet tables, like a picture of the two of them together proved some kind of point. This specific gala was located in the massive ballroom of a Four Seasons in downtown Austin, and it was being hosted by Governor Ironhide, who hated Megatron almost as much as Megatron hated her. 

“Prime is currently in New Hampshire at a veteran’s town hall.” Soundwave informed her before she had even opened her mouth to ask. Not for the first time, she wondered if Soundwave could read minds. 

“New Hampshire.” Starscream snorted, glancing over from the mirror where she was adjusting her red lace sheath dress. “Was there nothing going on in Iowa?”

If someone else had said that Megatron might have thought it was funny. But it was Starscream, and she was _so_ not in the mood. “Thank you for your input. Now stop preening and get over here so we can go over talking points.”

“Just because you have no appreciation of class doesn't mean I have to wear the same two outfits everywhere.”

“Come here now, or you can stay behind and cat-sit for Soundwave.”

Soundwave shot her a look that very clearly conveyed that Starscream would be left alone with Ravage over her dead body as Starscream flounced over, looking petulant. “What are the talking points, esteemed leader?”

She decided to ignore the sarcasm, they were late enough as it was and she was already starting to get a tension headache. “Talk up the infrastructure package from last year to the donors, mention the updates to the irrigation plan, and find ways to undercut the diplomacy bill Prime’s sponsoring. Do not, under any circumstances, bring up Prime directly. I don’t want our names written in the same article. If there’s another feature piece on the ‘battle for the soul of America,’ I swear I’m going to find whatever crackpot wrote it and relive them of the burden of having hands.”

“Senator?” 

You’d think that her campaign manager would be better at reading the room. She rubbed her temples, wishing she had a cup of coffee. Or a stiff drink, if she was being really honest with herself, which she tried to be as often as possible. “I wasn’t planning on taking questions, Starscream.”

“I was just going to say that stories about rivalries inevitably make a huge impact with readers. Shouldn’t we be taking advantage of that? ”

“Any story that goes in-depth about my rivalry with Prime ends up framing me as the aggressor, regardless of what the reality is. I don’t like my policy ideas being reduced to one-dimensional caricatures of themselves. There’s more to them than that.”

Starscream rolled her eyes. “But it _sells._ I’ve seen the stats, people fucking love hearing about the two of you going up against each other. And Prime has plenty of enemies, especially in swing districts--”

Soundwave cleared her throat, pointing at her watch, and Megatron quickly rose to leave, hoping Starscream would take the hint. She didn’t, practically jogging to keep up with her. The sound of her stilettos didn’t help with Megatron’s headache. 

“Look, I’ll prove it. Give me a story, I can spin it. Lean into this, not out of it.”

“I said no, that’s the end of it.”

“Oh, come on! I’m telling you, this will work.”

“And I’m telling you no. Drop it.”

Starscream didn’t drop it, and they continued to argue as Soundwave drove to the hotel, the topic switching from political strategy to the overall quality of Texas drivers, and then to the appetizers served at the gala. Somewhere in the middle of it, Megatron realized her headache had all but vanished and she was actually _enjoying_ this--it was oddly satisfying to argue with her campaign manager. The girl was stubborn, and unbelievably obnoxious, but she was also whip-smart and she knew how to back her opinions up. Even if most of them were completely idiotic. 

“I’m just saying--we know it’s Texas, they don’t have to serve fucking barbecue at every event. And what the hell is with this theme? Do they think we’re going to forget where we are if we go five minutes without seeing a cowboy hat?”

“Just because you’re a snob doesn’t mean the rest of us are, princess.”

Starscream huffed at that, stabbing the lime wedge in her margarita. “I don’t think I’m a snob because I’m annoyed by faux-folksiness. This is just like when people make a big deal about how much they like Dunkin’ Doughnuts coffee even though Starbucks is _obviously_ better. Because people like to fetishize the working class.”

Megatron laughed at that before she could stop herself. “Are you talking about Prime?”

“Oh, you _know_ I’m talking about Prime. I’ve seen you do it too, but I assume it’s because you have an authentic hardscrabble background.” 

“Authentic?” They’d somehow gotten closer to each other, their hips nearly brushing as they leaned against the wall, and on a completely irrational impulse she bumped the smaller woman with her shoulder. “You should be careful, that was almost a compliment.”

Starscream looked down at her drink, and--was she blushing? “Don’t get used to it.”

She was about to retort but Soundwave caught her eye across the room and tilted her head towards an obviously wealthy grey-haired couple, mouthing _donors_. Megatron sighed, forcing her mind to shift into “gala mode.”

“Enough. Go network with some of those Silicon Valley idiots over there.”

Starscream rolled her eyes and clicked away.

Two hours later, Megatron had made small talk with a blur of well-dressed wealthy people, none of whom were particularly interesting. She kept a mental tally of where Governor Ironhide and her staff were at all times--it would be just like them to start a confrontation that they could spin in their favor, and then that would be what the next two weeks would be about. Occasionally she’d overhear Starscream’s high-pitched laugh where she was holding court with a number of young billionaires, or notice Soundwave deep in conversation with a journalist. They both seemed to be doing their jobs, which was reassuring. She was considering indulging in the open bar--it seemed like the night was going to be relatively uneventful, and even though she couldn’t stand Ironhide the woman knew how to buy good liquor--when her phone buzzed sharply. She excused herself from an inane conversation with the third person in a cowboy hat she’d spoken to that night and ducked out onto the terrace. 

“Soundwave. What’s going on?”

“Information has come up regarding the Americans for Freedom PAC. I just sent it to you.”  
Megatron glanced over her shoulder, making sure that she was alone on the terrace. A few couples were stargazing, so she walked down the shallow flight of stairs into the tiny courtyard, keeping her voice low. 

“When you say information--”

“The Freight Division donated a significant amount of money last quarter, and according to these documents the money has been used to fund the campaigning Governor Ironhide’s been doing for her reelection campaign.” 

“You have definite proof of this, Soundwave?” She fought to keep her voice level. It was important to be sure. “I don’t mean rumors, I mean solid proof.”

“Affirmative.”

“If Ironhide really used the funds from a leadership PAC she sponsored for her own campaign, that’s--we can work with that.” Megatron looked up at the multicolored city lights, her brain spinning. “Are they aware we have this information?”

“Negative.”

“Inform them and set up a meeting an hour from now. And then get Starscream and meet me at the car.” She hung up, opening the attachments that Soundwave had sent her. The night had just gotten a lot more interesting.

______________________________________

“Where are we going?” Starscream seemed to have just realized that they weren’t driving back to the hotel. Megatron and Soundwave ignored her, and she repeated the question again, louder this time. Megatron turned to glare at her. 

“I have an impromptu meeting with Ironhide regarding campaign donations. You will not be doing any talking, just stand next to the car and look intimidating. Can you handle that, or should we drop you off at the hotel?”

Starscream scowled. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Then don’t act like one.” She faced forward again, hearing rather than seeing her campaign manager’s annoyed huff. “Soundwave, do you have anything else?”  
Soundwave handed over her phone and Megatron scrolled through the unevenly scanned emails and hacked text messages. Starscream unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over her shoulder, and she could smell the margarita on her breath, mixed with her expensive perfume.

“Move your head so I can see.”

“If I want you to see, I’ll send it to you.”

“You won’t do it in time.”

Soundwave cleared her throat. “We’re nearly there. I recommend we focus on the operation.”

Starscream snorted. “Nerd.” Soundwave didn’t rise to the bait, but she did hit the brakes harder than she normally would have at the next red light, causing Starscream to whack her head on Megatron’s headrest. “You fucking did that on purpose!”

“Suggestion: wear your seatbelt.”

“You’re not my mom.”

Soundwave accelerated and Starscream lurched back in her seat, reluctantly grabbing for her seatbelt. “You’ll pay for that!”

Soundwave ignored her, and the drive continued in blissful silence. 

The agreed-upon location was an abandoned motel five miles out of Austin, far away enough away from light pollution that you could make out some constellations. Ironhide’s car was already parked in front of the burned out “Vacancy” sign, and Soundwave pulled them in across from them. Megatron could see the governor and her chief of staff standing by the car, and she was reminded of the old-fashioned standoffs from the Westerns that she used to watch late at night on their black-and-white television when her mother was out at work and she was alone in their tiny apartment. 

“Again, no one talks unless I give them permission. We need to present a united front. Starscream, you might have the impulse to get clever, so this is my one warning: Don’t.” Her campaign manager made a small noise of annoyance but nodded reluctantly when Megatron met her eyes. She glanced over at Soundwave, who had slid on her giant reflective sunglasses. 

“I assume I don’t have to warn you to not talk?”

“Affirmative.”

“Good.” She swung the car door open, jerking her head at the other women to follow her.  
It had cooled off somewhat, and the air felt dense, like there was a storm coming. The desert wind was whistling through the dark empty motel windows. Ratchet, the governor’s current chief of staff and longtime friend, spoke first. 

“So you want to talk about Americans for Freedom?”

Megatron gestured to Soundwave, who handed her the files she had downloaded. “I’m no expert on campaign finance law, but this is awfully shady, even for you, Ironhide.”

Ironhide chuckled. “You’re hardly in a position to lecture anyone on morality in campaigns, Megatron. I’ve seen what y’all get up to.” 

People called the governor’s accent “charming” and “folksy.” Megatron always found that fascinating--no one had ever called her mother’s accent those things. 

“That’s quite an accusation. Do you have any proof to back it up?” 

“Everyone knows you did it.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

The governor glared at her but said nothing. Ratchet cleared her throat, running a hand through her short hair. “So what’s your plan, Senator? I mean, I love hanging out in abandoned motel parking lots, but maybe we can skip to the part where you threaten us so we can all just go home and get some sleep?”

“You’re awfully confident, given the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Why don’t we all cut the crap.” Governor Ironhide adjusted her glasses, looking at Megatron with barely-concealed disgust. “What is it that you want?”

“Prime’s in New Hampshire tonight talking up her diplomacy bill. Next week, the Senate votes on it. It’s a shame it’s not going to pass, because if it does, her closest political ally will be embroiled in a disastrous campaign finance scandal.”

“Are you serious?”

Megatron crossed her arms. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“This is blackmail.”

“Are you really going to waste time being scandalized? Kill the bill, or the Houston Chronicle runs the story.”

“They’ll find out you did this.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps it won’t matter. Either way, it certainly undercuts your plan to relocate to the Naval Observatory.”

“Prime has plenty of allies for that. If she’s even planning on running.”

Starscream snorted and Megatron shot her a warning look before answering. “Yes, but she wants you. You balance the ticket out perfectly. My guess is that you’ll run and then drop out and endorse her after South Carolina, right?

Ratchet opened her mouth to respond but Ironhide shook her head. “I’m not going to stand here and let you threaten me. Leak the story or don’t, but be prepared for retaliation if you’re fixing to do it. Just some friendly advice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was initially two chapters but I decided that was stupid and combined them, so this is now ten chapters long instead of eleven. Ten is a nice round number so I like that better anyway. Also, I'd like to take a moment to apologize to fans of Dunkin' Doughnuts coffee--I don't understand your perspective but I respect it, and I hope you were not offended.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're the weirdest person in a diner at 4 am, you're doing something wrong.

“We have to leak it.” Starscream cut her avocado toast into smaller squares, gesturing with her fork as she did. “We have to! There are a ton of on-the-fence voters who could swing over to our team with this kind of thing out in the open. It’s a fucking gift from the heavens!”

“No.” Megatron didn’t look up from her coffee and huevos rancheros. They were good, and not just because she hadn’t eaten anything at the gala. She always told Soundwave that they didn’t make breakfast food right in Washington. In general, she felt like the food was better in Texas, maybe because people weren’t afraid to make the full-fat version of things. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“If we have this in our back pocket, we can use it further down the line.”

“In the primary.” Soundwave chimed in, stirring her steel-cut oatmeal. 

“That’s years from now! Look, this is something we can use _now_ , and we should. How do you know that people will even be interested in this during a presidential election when there are hundreds of juicier stories bouncing around?”

“I said no.”

“You’re seriously not even going to consider it?” Starscream’s voice pitched higher, as it always did when she was upset, and Megatron noticed a few customers looking over. It was a diner at four in the morning, so they were hardly the oddest people there--a man in a chicken suit was sitting a few booths down with a large cardboard arrow propped up next to him, and she was pretty sure she’d seen the grizzled-looking biker eating pie at the counter on the evening news a few nights ago--but Starscream, as always, was determined to be the center of attention. 

“Lower your voice.”

“Bite me.” Starscream stood up, leaving half her order on the table and threw her napkin at Megatron’s head, glaring even harder when she caught it. “I’m going back to the hotel. You’re both idiots.”

Megatron watched her storm out into the darkened parking lot, stirring her coffee.

“Observation.” Soundwave pushed her empty bowl away and began to add butter to her toast. “She’s going to leak the story.”

“Oh, most definitely.” Megatron glanced over at her colleague. “But now I can legitimately say that I didn’t do it. It’s much better if we have some insulation, and she’s not wrong about it not being as helpful in a year. I told you, I can manage her.”

Soundwave hadn’t removed her sunglasses but Megatron could tell she was skeptical.

_________________________________

“Star. It’s been too long.”

“Can it, Lockdown. What’s your relationship with the _Houston Chronicle_?”

“Do we have to talk business right away? I’m sure you must be lonely on the road, and I’m happy to offer some quality assistance.”

Ugh. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Hey, hold on.”

“Oh, so you can help me? Because if you can’t, I’ll take my business to someone who can.”

“Let’s just say...I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Wonderful.” The sun was rising, making the ugly Walmart Supercenter lot where she was parked look almost beautiful. She took a sip of her white chocolate mocha, trying not to think about how she’d been up all night and probably wouldn’t get another chance to sleep until they got to their next hotel, in an entirely different dreary Texas city. Water had condensed on the outside of the cup and it dripped on her red lacy gala dress as she took a sip, and she covered the phone’s speaker so Lockdown wouldn’t hear her sigh of annoyance. “I have some information I need to get to out. They can’t know it was from the senator’s campaign, but it needs to break today. Can you manage that?”

“Depends on what the information is.”

“It involves Governor Ironhide and unsavory PAC spending.”

“Yes.” She could hear the glee in Lockdown’s voice. “I can absolutely manage that.”

“Good. You’re going to get an email with everything you need in ten minutes. I trust you can come up with your own story about how you got it?”

“I’m not an amateur, sweetheart.”

“All right. Pleasure doing business with you, Lockdown.” She hung up and drank the rest of her mocha, watching the light reflect off the three other cars in the parking lot.

_________________________________

The news story broke at about seven in the morning, just as Lockdown promised it would. Megatron wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t press her campaign manager when she denied knowing anything. As Starscream predicted, Senator Prime was fielding questions about her possible involvement, and her diplomacy bill was looking to lose several of its more moderate sponsors. Megatron spent most of the morning on the phone with her fellow senators outlining the reasons why it was essential they pull their names off the proposed legislation.

Even though her plan had worked out perfectly, she couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that something was going on that she wasn’t in complete control of. The lunch meeting only heightened that feeling. On a whim, she suggested that they move up the date for a town hall that had been scheduled for the end of the month.

“There’s a date about a week and a half from now that they’re open to moving it to. We’re polling ahead there, farther ahead than the models predicted, and now the news cycle’s in our favor. We need to press the advantage before we lose it.”

And Megatron actually _agreed_ with her and then ran a hand down her arm almost absentmindedly as she turned to Soundwave with a question. She nearly jumped out of her own skin. Her heartbeat was so loud she was sure Megatron could hear it and she didn’t hear a single word the rest of the meeting. 

When the senator pulled her aside afterward, she half expected to be confronted with either evidence of her phone call to Lockdown or worse, asked why she was so distracted in the meeting, but instead, her boss handed her a stack of binders. “I need you to go to Fort Worth. Governor Ironhide is doing a charity dinner tonight. Show up, don’t talk to anyone on her staff, and charm the party donors.”

She should have been relieved--it was far easier to keep a secret when you didn’t have to talk to the people you were keeping a secret from--but she realized she didn’t want to leave. Which was bizarre, and she didn’t like the feeling. “Why can’t you send Soundwave? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Megatron sighed. “Think what you want. Just go and do your job.” 

“There are things I need to do here. The canvassing app just got off the ground, and I’m still trying to work out the details with the yard sign company--”

“Do you have to push me on everything? The event starts at five. Be there.” Megatron glanced down at her phone and turned away, seemingly already bored with her. 

Starscream silently fumed the entire drive to Fort Worth. The charity event was a nightmare, as she had expected--her favorite part had to be when some idiot accidentally knocked a mini plate full of short ribs into her lap, smearing sub-par barbecue sauce down her second favorite cocktail dress. She took it off as soon as she got back to her motel room and desperately ran it under cold water in the tub, but it was completely futile and she knew it. When she finally stormed out of the bathroom, defeated and way too sober for this shit, she noticed that her phone was buzzing. 

“What the fuck do you want now?” God, she needed to talk to someone. Was she desperate enough to call Skywarp? She wasn’t sure.

The buzzing turned out to be an email from Soundwave, instructing her to stay in Fort Worth another day and straighten out an issue they were having with a donor who was apparently willing to hand over his checkbook until he got a call from Governor Ironhide. There was nothing from Megatron, and the disappointment she was feeling meant that some stupid part of her had _expected_ something from Megatron, and that made her furious. 

To distract herself, she pulled on her favorite hoodie--the faded blue one with the periodic table on it that Skywarp had given her years ago. It was a very rare example of good taste on her sister’s part, and it reminded her of home. Her cigarettes were in the front pocket, and she allowed herself one, leaning on the balcony of her motel room and watching the smoke swirl and dissolve. It almost worked. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to be, other than her usual deep urge to just go _anywhere but here_. Her quiet apartment in San Francisco was an obvious answer, but before she could close her eyes and imagine that she was on the balcony overlooking the ocean, her mind conjured up another image--standing next to the senator at the gala, their shoulders brushing, the older woman’s mouth curling up in a half-smile at some comment she had made. 

“Fuck.”

She took another drag of the cigarette and pulled out her phone, dialing before she could stop herself. Skywarp picked up on the last possible ring. 

“Screamer?”

Starscream contemplated hanging up just for that, but she really hadn’t liked the direction her thoughts were going in before. “Do you know anyone else who would call from this number?”  
“It _is_ you! God, we’ve been trying to call all day. TC sent me the story about the PAC, can you believe it?”

“Skywarp, I practically _wrote_ that article.”

“Really.” Thundercracker’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and Starscream could picture the two of them sprawled out on Skywarp’s obnoxious king-sized bed with an open pizza box between them. She missed California pizza. The place around the corner from Skywarp’s apartment made the _best_ truffle and goat cheese, and she would kill to be there right now, fighting over the last slice and insulting Skywarp’s terrible taste in music. 

“Don’t you start.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Her brief pang of nostalgia vanished. 

“I can _hear_ you thinking about how leaking the story was a bad move!” 

“It’s just not what I would have done.” 

There was a faint thud, suggesting that Skywarp had wrestled control the phone out of her girlfriend’s hands. “How about we move on from that now. Did you call for a reason?”

“No, I was just returning your ten messages because I didn’t feel like dealing with another fucking ‘intervention’ about how I’m a terrible sister when I get back in a month.”

“So you’re still coming back?”

_What the hell?_ “Yes, of course I’m coming back! Why would you think otherwise? I fucking hate it here, you have no idea. It’s unbelievably hot--yesterday was almost a hundred degrees. And god, the senator is the fucking worst. Just yesterday, she completely blew me off when I had this brilliant idea about--”

“Oh, here we go.” Thundercracker sounded _amused_. Starscream couldn’t believe she actually thought calling these two idiots would make her feel better.

“What, TC? Tell me, what exactly do you find fucking _funny_ about this?”

“It’s nothing.”

Skywarp chimed in. “TC and I just had a bet going on how long it would take for you to bring up Megatron, and I just won twenty dollars.”

“You two had a _what_?”

“I told you not to tell her, ‘Warp.”

‘Why the _fuck_ would you be betting on that?”

“You kind of talk about her a lot.”

“Yes, because I fucking hate her! She’s a complete idiot who doesn't know what to do with the power she has. If I was in charge, I guarantee this primary would already be fucking done deal. She never listens to anything I say even when I’m just trying to help, and it’s not _fair_.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you ‘uh-huh’ that! Honestly, the shit that went down over that PAC story, you have no idea. I stepped in and saved her stupid ass and she doesn't even know about it, she’d probably fire me if she did--”

“Starscream.” Thundercracker interrupted her _again_ , and it would seriously be a fucking cold day in hell before she ever called them no matter how lonely her motel room was. 

“Since you came to Texas, we’ve spoken on the phone five times, and every time you’ve ranted about how much you hate the senator. You’re kind of obsessed with her.”

“Have you two been smoking weed again?”

“No.”

Skywarp chimed in again. “I made brownies, actually. We were going to eat them and watch _Ratatouille._ ”

“Oh, date night. That’s adorable.”

“I’m going to ignore your obvious bitterness and give you some good advice.” Thundercracker cleared her throat in warning, but Skywarp kept talking, probably because she knew Starscream was in a different state and wouldn’t be able to kill her. “Think about why you’re so obsessed with her. Because I don’t think the answer is going to be what you’re assuming it is.”

“Skywarp, I swear to fucking--” 

“Anway, we gotta go. Have fun in Texas!”

“I won’t.”

She lit up another cigarette and determinedly did _not_ think about what Skywarp had said. Her sister was an idiot, anyway, and she had no idea what was really going on. She didn’t.

_________________________________

Megatron poured a glass of whiskey and closed her laptop, allowing herself to savor both the drink and the day’s news cycle. It was rare that things went her way, but today they truly had: Prime was scrambling to save her disaster of a bill, her own poll numbers were up, and with the adjusted schedule she’d have a chance to be home in two weeks instead of four. Of course, she’d only be at her ranch for a day at most, but it would be enough time to pick up some of her favorite books and spend a few hours at the shooting range. She closed her eyes and thought about the weight of her gun in her hand, the smell of iron and desert dust, and for the first time in hours, her brain quieted. 

Her thoughts drifted to the day’s earlier meeting, to the way Starscream had jumped when she touched her arm. It wasn’t surprising--her campaign manager was so tightly wound it sometimes seemed like she’d shake apart at even the slightest touch. She sighed, concerned at the direction her thoughts had taken. It wasn’t the first time she’d made an excuse to brush against Starscream, to catalog her campaign manager’s reaction, and she needed to get the habit under control. There was no explanation for her mind replaying Starscream’s quick intake of breath. Her fingers tingled, remembering the warmth of the girl’s skin, and she squeezed the cool glass, trying to erase the memory. 

Soundwave had recommended again that she address Starscream going behind her back to leak a news story. She understood the concern, her campaign manager was using methods that were--well, unconventional was the most polite word that came to mind. One of the first lessons you learned as a leader was that it was essential to run a tight ship. There was no room for employees with ulterior motivations. And now that she had evidence of disobedience, she could fire Starscream. 

Megatron took another sip of her drink, reaching for the memo Soundwave had given her, and then picking up her well-worn copy of _The Song of Achilles_. The girl’s plan had worked. She was good at her job, and that was why Megatron hadn’t gotten rid of her. Well, no--that wasn’t it. It was part of it, she supposed. If their positions were reversed she imagined she would have done something similar. Of course, she would have done it better, but she couldn’t deny that she felt some similarity, some connection...

“Enough.” She drained the rest of her glass and opened the book, forcing her mind to the Trojan War. It was essential that she not let her fascination with the girl be her undoing. If it became necessary, she would have her dispatched. And that was final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by the concept of pining. Pining: what you get when the author has read far too many trashy gay romance novels.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *gestures vaguely* I don't know. Don't look at me.

The senator’s ranch was unsurprisingly modest, with comfortable furniture and minimalist decorations. Starscream took the first opportunity she had to snoop, but there were no false bottoms in the drawers or hidden safes behind the paintings. The only room that stood out was the library, which was so full of books that the boring stucco walls were almost completely obscured. There was a complete collection of Shakespeare’s plays--first edition, it looked like--and the section on political science made her salivate. She was eying an autographed copy of John Kingdon’s _America The Unusual_ , wondering if the senator would miss it, when Soundwave shooed her out of the room.

“The senator wants you at the shooting range to talk about the upcoming town hall.”

“This place has a fucking shooting range?”

“Yes, outside. Behind the barn.”

“Any new polls out?”

“No.” Soundwave was only half listening, absorbed in whatever was on her phone. “Go.”  
Starscream grabbed her stylish wide-brimmed sunhat and her bag and went, annoyed at Soundwave ordering her around but not enough to start a fight when it was so goddamn hot.  
The sun felt almost aggressive, blasting down on her like it knew all the curses she’d been hurling at it and Texas weather in general. She could hear gunshots now, sharp and getting louder as she walked behind the barn.

Megatron didn’t notice her at first, and that gave her time to look, which she did before she could stop herself. The senator was handling the gun like an extension of herself, her dark eyes intensely fixed on the target thirty feet away. She sent three bullets into the center without even blinking, and Starscream could smell gunpowder now, mixing with the desert dust and dried grass. There was something alluring about it, and she found herself inhaling, resisting the bizarre urge to step closer.

“Senator.”

Megatron turned and Starscream’s brain completely whited out, trying to absorb the woman’s glistening skin, the muscles that stood out in her arms, the gunpowder streak on one of her high cheekbones. “Starscream? What are you doing out here?”

She forced herself out of her daze, wishing she had a cold drink. Or just a bucket of ice she could stick her head in. “The town hall is tonight. Didn’t you want to go over talking points?”

“Oh, that. I suppose I did mention that to Soundwave. It can wait. Go back inside.”

She wondered how someone could irritate her so badly with just six fucking sentences. “No. You need to prepare, and I’m not sitting around with Soundwave and her stupid kids waiting for you to be done shooting things.”

Megatron glared at her, the kind of glare that always made her feel off-balance. “I am taking a thirty-minute break in my first visit to my home in nearly a month. Whatever it is can wait until I’m finished.”

“Who the fuck has a shooting range in their backyard, anyway?” The senator actually looked _amused_ at that, which was worse than a glare because it meant that the woman was fucking _laughing_ at her, like she was some idiotic child. “I’m sorry, did I say something funny?”

“You’ve just clearly never spent much time in Texas.”

“I can’t see why anyone sane would want to.” She tore her eyes away from the older woman’s strong arms, focusing on the weapon she held, actually feeling curious in spite of herself. “Is that an antique?”

The senator looked down at the silver gun, a faint smile on her face. “It was the most valuable thing my family owned.” She ran a finger down the barrel, contemplating something, and then held it out with the handle facing Starscream. “Would you like to try it?”

“Are you joking?” Something in her thrilled at the idea of holding such a powerful weapon, the same weapon that Megatron had handled with such care, but she tried not to get too excited, knowing it was probably just the senator fucking with her head.

“Do you not want to?”

“No, I just—”

“What is it?” Her brow was furrowing in annoyance, and Starscream grabbed the gun before she could pull it away.

“Nothing.” The handle was warm in her hand, heavier than she expected. She could feel where Megatron’s hands had held it, strong and deliberate, because she was always deliberate in what she touched. _Snap out of it._ She walked to where Megatron had been standing, eying the target. The senator stood behind her, annoyingly close.

“You can back up.”

“It has a bit of a kick. Have you ever handled a gun like this?”

“Well, no. But I know how to point and shoot.”

“Oh, it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I don’t need a lesson. I did archery when I was at Stanford.”

“This isn’t an archery range in a private club.”  
Starscream rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, so you can drop the pretentious expert crap.” She confidently squeezed the trigger before her boss could respond.  
________________________________

Megatron caught her campaign manager as she flew backward, nearly getting an elbow in her stomach for her trouble. Starscream tried to scramble away, her stiletto heels kicking up a cloud of dust in the process.

“You did that on purpose, you complete and utter _asshole_!” She angrily grabbed her hat off the ground and whacked Megatron on the shoulder with it, creating another small puff of dust.

“I did tell you it had a kick. It was completely my mistake, of course. I assumed you’d be intelligent enough to not just pull the trigger without any preparation. Even complete novices know not to do that.”

Starscream looked like she was about to claw out her eyes. “You—you—do you get off on humiliating people?”

Megatron couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Well, I won’t deny that that was extremely entertaining to watch.”

“I could have you arrested!”

“Really. And what exactly would you tell them? That you pretended you knew how to handle a gun and got knocked over?”

Starscream turned to storm back to the house, and even though that was what Megatron had initially planned, she realized she didn’t want her campaign manager to leave. She caught Starscream’s wrist, pulling her close and turning her to face the target again.

“What are you doing?”

“People who work for me don’t storm off when they fail. They learn from it. Stand here.” 

Starscream was tense under her hands, almost vibrating, but she didn’t say anything. _Strange._ “First, adjust your stance.” She tapped the tip of her boot against Starscream’s ankle. “Those ridiculous heels don’t help, but there’s not much we can do about them right now. Use both hands and hold the handle firmly. Extend your firing arm and unlock your elbow unless you want to break it.” Starscream flinched when she touched her elbow. “Relax. If you’re tensed up like this you’re not going to be able to hit the broad side of a barn. Move this foot forward, and angle it out to the side. No, not like that. ” 

Starscream shot a glare over her shoulder. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Do you want to know how to do it or not, brat?” Her campaign manager huffed with annoyance but turned back towards the target. Megatron guided her hand, both their fingers curling over the trigger. “Good. Inhale, and then pull the trigger as you exhale.” Starscream breathed in slowly. The senator felt it against her chest. “Now.” She squeezed the trigger, and the recoil radiated through both of their bodies. Megatron saw a hole appear inside the target’s third inner ring. “Not bad for a first try.”

“I don’t need you to patronize me.”

“All right. You can do better. Try again.”

It took her two more tries to hit the center. Megatron expected her to brag, but the only change in her face was the corner of her mouth smugly curling up. She could feel the girl’s heart racing, reminding her of a hummingbird’s rapidly beating wings. Starscream was so tiny in her arms, her hair smelling like coconut oil and the expensive perfume she always wore. This was—she hadn’t expected this, for the girl to be so—distracting. 

Starscream stepped away, adjusting her short designer dress with one hand and examining the gun with the other. Megatron tried to shake the sudden, possessive urge to pull her back, to crush their bodies together and trace the shape of her lips.

“How much is this thing, anyway?”

“I’ve never had it appraised, but I imagine it’s at least two thousand dollars.”

“That’s not very impressive, as antiques go.”

“It has more value than that. There’s no weapon more reliable. It kept my family alive for generations.”

Starscream snorted. “You’re awfully sentimental for a so-called pragmatist.”

“Everyone indulges in a few things.”

“You indulge in antique weapons?”

“And good liquor.”

Starscream was giving her a look she didn’t quite understand. “Anything else?”

Megatron found herself moving forward as if pulled by some invisible force, brushing some of the wisps of hair that had come loose from the girl’s bun out of her face. Her skin was soft, and she took the gun back so she would have an excuse to brush her fingers over Starscream’s wrist and feel her rapid pulse. Starscream inhaled at her touch, her lips slightly parted, and she could feel the tension between them, almost see it, like the haze created by the hot sun on the red Texas earth. A line from one of her favorite poems came to her head suddenly, sharply. _I made you, and take you made into me._

Starscream’s phone rang shrilly, breaking the spell. She turned away sharply, yanking it out of her pocket. “Hello? Yes, this is she. No, we certainly fucking won’t adjust for another schedule change, are you completely insane? Put your manager on the line now. No, now, or I swear your next job will be shooting home fucking movies.”

She stormed away, gesturing angrily. Megatron wondered when she had become so captivated by how Starscream talked with her hands, always tapping her perfectly-manicured fingers on the table or sweeping her arms through the air. Her hands had been cool and dry when Megatron touched her, and she felt something ache in the back of her throat, in the hollow of her chest. She let herself feel it for a moment, let herself _want._

The ranch door closed and the moment ended. 

Megatron turned back to the target after a moment, trying to get back into the quiet place her mind always went to when she was at the shooting range. She could still smell her campaign manager’s perfume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Kingdon wrote my Policymaking textbook and came up with the "garbage can model" to explain how policy gets written. He is currently my favorite Old White Dude out of the many that I have had to read while studying political science.  
> The poem is called "Recreation," and it's by Audre Lorde. If you're interested in the rest of it, here's the url. It is very gay.  
> https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42579/recreation


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Coping With Emotions abound.

Soundwave looked at her oddly when she walked back in the house, like she knew something Starscream didn’t. She couldn’t even bring herself to insult her, just spitting out something about the town hall organizers and bolting to her rental car. Her heart was pounding, and no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the town hall, her brain kept replaying the older woman holding her against her chest, firm but gentle hands guiding her into the right position, that fucking _voice_. It was even worse than the goddamn job interview, and she was still having embarrassing dreams about _that_. 

She pulled over at the nearest Starbucks drive-through and ordered her usual, skipping the straw and swallowing the ice cubes whole in a desperate attempt to cool herself off. A headache hit her like a train, and she shrieked in frustration, punching the car dashboard and earning a glare from a well-coiffed soccer mom parked next to her. Starscream flipped her off as she pulled out of the driveway, grateful to have someone to vent her frustration on.

The town hall preparations went by in a satisfyingly distracting blur. She had almost forgotten about the shooting range when Megatron swept in and brought the stupid embarrassing memories crashing back into the front of her mind. 

“Did you fix the problem you were going on about?”

“Of--of course!” God, what was _wrong_ with her? It was the heat, it had to be. People weren’t meant to live like this. Once this shitshow of a campaign was over she was never, ever going further south than Las Vegas. 

“Go double-check. And do it before the town hall starts.”

Starscream bit her lip, hesitating. “Did you go over the statements I sent you?”

“It’s funny, I asked you to do something and yet you’re still standing here, asking me ridiculous questions.”

“I’m not--” She could hear the petulant whine in her voice and it disgusted her. “Fine.”  
__________________________

Clearly, she hadn’t gone over the statements. Or she’d read them and just didn’t care, which was more likely.

Starscream kept it together with the spin team, nodding and smiling tightly when the idiot journalists congratulated her on how well it had gone. Megatron didn’t talk to her at all when she emerged from the green room, waving at the press and personally congratulating the interns but completely ignoring her and she was really going to fucking quit this time.

Megatron looked only mildly surprised to see her when she knocked on the door of her hotel room.

“Starscream. I assume you’re not here to congratulate me?”

Forget quitting, Starscream was going to kill her. “I work on the town hall statements for two fucking weeks and you decide you’re just going off script?”

“I adapted to the circumstances, and it went well. Would you have preferred that I used the canned answers and done badly?”

“I would have _preferred_ you discussed the strategy change with me instead of completely blindsiding the entire team! We could have worked it in.”

“The spin team did fine.”

“That’s not the point! The point is that this is exactly what you’re supposed to talk about with your campaign manager, and once again you didn’t even think to _tell_ me before you went onstage.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed to run everything by you, princess.”

“I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here! Just tell me, if you’re never going to listen, why did you even fucking hire me?”

Megatron gave her a look that was so condescending she wanted to scream, stepping closer. 

“What exactly would you like me to do? Do you want me to pat you on the head and tell you that you did a good job?’”

“Fuck you.” The words shot out of her mouth like bullets. Some distant part of her mind was aware that she was digging her nails into her palms so hard that they were probably leaving little crescent-shaped marks, and blood was roaring in her ears. 

“That’s no way to speak to your boss.” Megatron took another step towards her and she found herself taking a step back before she could stop herself, scrambling for an effective defense. 

“Oh, _forgive_ me, mighty leader. Have I displeased you? Are you going to teach me a fucking lesson?”

She heard the words only after they flew out of her mouth and mentally cringed. Megatron raised her eyebrows but said nothing, just moved closer. Her instincts told her to step back again but she stepped forward instead, because she wasn’t going to back down. Her brain unhelpfully reminded her of how much taller Megatron was, how close together they were, and then she was thinking about the fucking shooting range again. Megatron licked her lips and heat pulsed through her body.

“You have ten seconds to get out of my hotel room.”

Her brain clicked back online and a wave of conflicted emotions hit her like a gut punch. She didn’t bother to filter through them, just nodded and ran for the door, not stopping to think until she got to the elevator and punched the ‘close door’ button, at which point the horror at the direction her thoughts had taken really sunk in. This was completely ridiculous. Probably the number one rule of succeeding in politics was “don’t hurl innuendo-laden challenges at your boss” and she’d gone ahead and done it. This truly had been the worst day. 

__________________________

A half hour later she had drunk most of the hotel bar’s best approximation of a margarita. It wasn’t terrible, as hotel drinks went, and the music wasn’t country, a welcome change. She was actually starting to feel a bit better. 

“Well, well, well. Out of all the gin joints in the world, she had to walk into mine.”

Nope, it was gone. “Lockdown, this isn’t a good time.”

“I’ll buy you another drink.”

“Oh. That’s different.”

“You seem tense.” The journalist snapped her fingers at the bartender. “I’ve been known to give excellent massages.”

“Not in a million years.”

Lockdown was unperturbed. “Worth a shot. Seriously, though, you look like death warmed over.”

“Yeah, well, you know who I’m fucking working for.” She stabbed the lime wedge in her drink with a toothpick. “I swear, this job has taken ten goddamn years off my lifespan.”

“I have heard my fair share about the scourge of the Senate.”

“Well, I’m telling you right now, whatever you heard isn’t nearly bad enough. She’s a fucking nightmare. Off the record.”

Lockdown put down her phone, looking disappointed. “Are you sure that’s off the record? I’d keep you on background.”

It was tempting. She needed to think it over, and so she rapidly thought back to Lockdown’s overly active Twitter feed for a distraction. “How’s Prowl doing? I know you two were both in Iowa last week.”

“Do you really need me to explain why Senator Prime’s chief of staff is sniffing around Cedar Rapids?”

Starscream rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that Senator Prime is fucking running for president. I assumed you would know more, considering how much you brag about your connections.”

“Sweetheart, I have all the connections.” Starscream considered several cutting responses to that because Lockdown was just asking to get taken down a few pegs, but something in her said _wait_. She took a sip of her drink, feigning boredom. And sure enough--“Aren’t you a little curious?”

_Bingo_. “Why don’t you buy me another drink, and we can discuss the matter further?” Lockdown pulled out her phone with a wolfish grin, and Starscream felt actually in control for the first time that day. With luck, she could get some dirt on Prime and payback for Megatron blowing her off. And, with the way Lockdown was staring down her shirt, another couple of free drinks.

It was nearly two in the morning when she finally collapsed in her hotel bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep, dreaming the weird jumbled technicolor mess that she always did when she was drunk. The only thing she remembered when she woke up was the weight of a gun in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, flipping off a soccer mom who gives you a Disapproving Look(TM) is the most wish-fulfillment thing I've ever written and I apologize. What I will not apologize for is the Cedar Rapids reference. It is 100% a shout-out to the most iconic political meme of all time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another meeting. It goes in a different direction than what the participants expect. Probably exactly the direction you're expecting (a gay direction).

The next day was chaotic, even by campaign trail standards, and she had nearly forgotten her conversation with Lockdown when Soundwave informed her that Megatron wanted to speak to her right away, alone. There was an edge to her tone on the last word that immediately had Starscream mentally spinning doomsday scenarios. She considered just not showing up but knew that if she was in trouble then skipping a meeting was a bad call. 

Megatron ushered her into her hotel room when she showed up, gesturing at one of the beige armchairs. “Have a seat.” The room was dim, even though it was the middle of the day, and the _caught_ feeling in the pit of her stomach grew.

“So, I was thinking--about the ad buys in Austin? I think we should hold off on them for another week, honestly--give the other ones time to get old and then--”

“We’re not going to be talking about ad buys. I think you have something else you need to tell me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Senator. If this isn’t a strategy meeting, I do have actual work that needs to be done.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Megatron was right behind her chair, way too close for comfort. ”That leak to the _Houston Chronicle_ \--that was you. Two weeks ago and then again today. I know Lockdown was staying at the hotel last night, did you have drinks with her?”

“Senator, believe me when I say I had the best interests of the campaign at heart--”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations, Starscream! You disobeyed a direct order. I’ve destroyed people for far less.”

A semi-hysterical laugh burst out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Oh my fucking god, you sound like a cartoon supervillain from the 1980s. What are you going to do next? Did you make Soundwave install a trapdoor under this chair so you could throw me down it? Do you have an evil plan to blow up the moon?”

Megatron was suddenly in front of the chair, leaning over her and tipping her chin up so their eyes met. “In case you somehow missed the clues, I don’t find this very funny.” Starscream swallowed hard, trying to get herself under control and definitely _not_ thinking about how close together their faces were. “Your little power trip seriously undercut the campaign’s media strategy and resurrected that diplomacy bill I spent so much time trying to get thrown out.” The senator turned her back on Starscream like she couldn’t stand to look at her, pacing the length of the tiny hotel room. “I should fire you, but that would confirm that the leak came from my inner circle, which would look incredibly bad for the campaign. So you’ll remain officially on my staff until the primary is over, but you won’t be in any of the strategy meetings. Consider yourself demoted.”

Starscream shoved her feelings aside before they had time to sink in. “Big deal. It’s not like you ever listen to any of my fucking advice.”

Megatron looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “What was that?”

“Nothing. I’ll go.” She pushed herself halfway out of the chair, but Megatron gave her a stern look, shaking her head.

“Sit.” 

“I don’t see what--”

“You don’t feel that I listen to you. Is that what this was about?”

“No! Of course not. I only meant—”

“Starscream, you are trying my patience. Start talking or I swear you’ll never work in DC again.”

She was on her feet, the words spilling out of her before she could stop them, spurred on by the weird combination of terrified and furious she always got around her boss. “What is it about me that you have such a problem with?”

Megatron looked like she was trying not to laugh, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling another insult at her and getting herself fired or worse. “Do you want the whole list or just the things from today?”

“I just--I don’t get it. Nothing, _nothing_ I do is ever good enough for you. And I’m excellent at what I do, I know I am, but you don’t even fucking _notice_!” She slapped a hand over her mouth a second too late. It would have been better if she’d cursed at her or taken a swing at her or done _anything_ but blurted out something so disgustingly vulnerable. The senator was giving her a look that she didn’t understand but she knew she didn’t like.

“Starscream.” Megatron took a step towards her and Starscream stumbled back, her stiletto catching on the Holiday Inn carpet. Her boss reached out as if to steady her and she shoved her away as violently as she could, groping behind her for the door.

“Fuck off!”

“Starscream, listen to me.” Something in her voice made Starscream pause. A hand was on her shoulder, turning her around so her back was against the door, and all she could see were Megatron’s dark eyes. “Listen to me and understand. One day, you’re going to be something incredible. You’re going to wipe out your opposition. I’ll probably be one of the people that you bring down. I can see this in your future. I saw it the moment you walked into my office. But you’re not there yet. Right now, you work for me and that means--” she squeezed her shoulder for emphasis “--you will do as I say. If I’m hard on you, it’s because I know you can take it. Because I _see_ the potential in you and I don’t want to it to wither and die.”

Megatron’s gaze was piercing, and Starscream wanted to look away, but she wouldn’t back down. She wouldn’t.

“Do you understand, Starscream?” Starscream nodded. “Say it.”

Her mouth felt dry. “I understand, Senator.”

“Use my name.”

“I understand.” She’d never called her anything but her title before. “Megatron.” Megatron inhaled sharply, and the room seemed to shrink down to just the small space between them, charged with the same tension she remembered from the shooting range. She could almost smell the gunpowder and Texas dust. 

Her shoulder was pressed into the door, not hard enough to trap her, but enough that she was acutely aware of the other woman’s strength. The senator moved closer, placing her other hand next to her head, boxing her in, a gesture that was unmistakably a challenge. Or an invitation. Starscream didn’t know which one she wanted it to be. Her gaze was unmistakably hungry, but she didn’t speak, didn’t move closer, just waited.

She could leave, Starscream realized. She could let this in-between moment be enough, be proof that Megatron thought of her as more than just an annoyance, and maybe it would be enough to get her through the next few weeks. It would mean she wouldn’t have to think about the way she was feeling, the same sharp bright hunger in her chest that she felt when she was working on her plans to run for Congress or strategizing the best way to take down a political opponent. Megatron was giving her control of this decision, and she wasn’t sure why, because she _knew_ the woman didn’t--wouldn’t--give up control that easily. But when she tested the waters, reaching up to touch the woman’s cheek, her boss leaned into it, just slightly. Her stomach flipped and she stood on her tiptoes and kissed her. 

A jolt went through her body as she was pushed against the door. Megatron’s grip was firmer now, one hand in her hair tilting her head back to get better access and-- _god_. She was grateful for the door behind her because otherwise her knees might have given out completely and that would have been utterly humiliating. On an impulse, she bit the other woman’s lower lip, and Megatron made a soft, hungry noise and kissed her harder, pulling her hair in a way that made her stomach flutter. Her whole body was tingling, alert in a way that felt thrilling and dangerous and _delicious_ , the kind of energy she felt when she was on a plane watching storm clouds through her window, wishing that she could somehow be in the storm, breathe the lightning into her and let the energy take her higher. When Megatron pulled away she barely resisted the urge to cling to her like the swooning protagonist of one of Thundercracker’s stupid lesbian pulp novels, trying to steady herself on the doorframe.

“We can’t.” Megatron didn’t sound very convinced. “It’s incredibly unprofessional.”

“I completely agree. You’re my boss.” Megatron was staring at her mouth and it made it hard to put sentences together. She could still taste her on her lips. “And besides. I hate you.”

Megatron smirked at that and Starscream’s blood boiled. “Really, Starscream? I’m hurt. Why?”

“Because--” Her voice caught and Megatron’s smirk widened. “You--You’re an arrogant, condescending, pigheaded idiot!” 

“Better that than a bratty little gadfly.”

Starscream shoved at her, spluttering incoherently in rage. “If you _ever_ call me ‘little’ again, I swear I’ll fucking strangle you!”

“Really. What’s your plan, are you going to stand on a box?”

“You fucking pompous--”

“Shrill--”

“Domineering--”  
She grabbed Megatron and kissed her again, cutting her off before she could respond, which she knew was technically cheating but she’d never cared about fighting fair. A moment later she was lifted off her feet, which she hadn’t expected. Megatron laughed at her startled yelp.

“I--” Megatron kissed her neck and she completely lost her train of thought. She moaned, her face heating up at how needy she sounded.

“That’s it, Starscream.” God, how could the woman just saying her fucking _name_ turn her on so much? “Come here.” The senator sat on the bed, pulling her down to straddle her lap, unbuttoning her blouse and murmuring encouragements. Starscream made a particularly embarrassing noise when Megatron whispered _good girl_ and she could feel the woman’s triumphant grin against her cheek. “You like that?”

“Fuck you.”

Megatron tutted disapprovingly. “We’re going to have to do something about that attitude of yours, princess.” Their mouths collided again and Starscream couldn’t think, could barely breathe. It had been so long since someone touched her like this, and she felt like she was coming apart in Megatron’s hands, unraveling in the best possible way—

“Senator.”

They both jumped apart. Starscream landed with a thud on the floor, scrambling to button her blouse back up and smooth out her red pencil skirt, like that would somehow make her look less disheveled. Soundwave didn’t look surprised, just resigned. 

“Soundwave--”

Soundwave held up a hand. “Suggestion: We talk alone.”

Megatron nodded. “Starscream, go. I’ll call you when I--when we need you.”

Some distant part of Starscream thought she should be offended, being dismissed like an errant schoolchild, but she was so desperate to get out of what had to be the most awkward situation since Thundercracker bailed her and Skywarp out of jail the day after their shared twenty-first birthday that she didn’t care.

“Of course, Senator.” She scrambled to her feet and bolted, making sure to not make eye contact with anyone.  
An hour later she was reapplying her makeup after a very cold shower when her phone rang shrilly. Her stomach flipped over but she made herself pick it up.

“Senator.”

“Starscream, we need to discuss social media. Be at the diner across the street in fifteen minutes.”

“I, um.” _Say something, say anything that’s not about what just happened._ “I thought I was demoted.”

“If you’re not here in fifteen minutes you will be.”

 _Okay then._ “Of course, Senator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this is a day early but the last chapter was short so it hopefully balances out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campaigns aren’t conducive environments for working out relationships, but you gotta make do with what you have sometimes.

Starscream managed to avoid being alone with her boss for a week. Soundwave was helpful, _insisting_ that she be at all strategy meetings. She didn’t know how much Soundwave knew, what the discussion that had taken place after she bolted had sounded like, and she tried not to agonize over it, burying herself in her work to keep her mind off what had happened. Megatron seemed to realize she was avoiding her, and she could sense the senator’s dark, inscrutable eyes on her whenever they were in the same room.

“You seem tense.” Megatron said to her after a meeting one morning, catching her forearm as she stood up and tugging her back down. She could feel her face heating up. It wasn’t like she’d ever had a problem with people touching her, but it was different with Megatron. None of her touches were out of the ordinary--little brushes on her elbow or shoulder, a squeeze of her knee--but they sent heat radiating through her body and left her aching for more. “Have you been sleeping?”

“We’re in the last few weeks of a campaign. If you’re sleeping, you’re definitely doing it wrong.”

The senator gave her the same patronizing look she had given her on the shooting range and she definitely needed to get out of there, but Megatron’s hand was still gripping her forearm, her thumb sweeping over the place where her pulse beat in the crook of her elbow. She struggled to hold back a shiver. “Understood. Still, I can’t have you getting sick in the last few weeks of the campaign. See to it that you’re not out late drinking with journalists.” Her tone was almost possessive, and she shouldn't have liked it but she really fucking did. The logical part of her brain struggled to come up with an effective retort.

“Senator.” Soundwave cleared her throat, and Starscream wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or annoyed that she had interrupted. “We have the meeting with the architect lobby in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course.” The senator left, but not before bending far too close to Starscream’s ear and murmuring something about needing her to research the cost of building materials, brushing a hand over her shoulder as she did. Starscream fucking hated her.

The more paranoid part of Starscream’s mind couldn’t help but wonder if Megatron had asked her about her sleeping habits because she somehow knew that she hadn’t been sleeping well because every time she closed her eyes she started thinking about the senator’s hands, her mouth, her low voice. More often than not she wound up in an icy shower or resolutely cranking up CNN, hoping that Wolf Blitzer’s bland reporting would get her heart rate back to normal. She reminded herself that it was a bad idea to further complicate her relationship with her boss, but every sleepless night made it more difficult to care.  
______________________

They had just arrived in Austin when disaster struck. After three increasingly desperate calls from the hall’s organizers, Megatron finally snapped and told Soundwave to _get over there now and stop them from setting the building on fire._ Soundwave tried to leave an intern behind, but the intern quickly bolted, clearly aware of the notoriously short tempers possessed by both the candidate and her campaign manager. Starscream stared at her laptop and tried not to think about the fact the last time they were alone in a hotel room they had—

“No, you need to make sure to clarify that the center _can’t_ receive private funding.”  
Megatron leaned over her shoulder to correct something, the third time in fifteen minutes and Starscream could smell cigarettes and coffee on her breath. _Think about Wolf Blitzer._

“I saw it. I was going to fix it, just give me a minute.”

“Drop the attitude.”

The senator’s tone made her stomach flip and she had never wanted to die quite as badly as she did at that particular moment. She tried to scoot her chair away.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here.” Megatron tapped on her computer screen, her other hand firmly on the back of her chair, holding it still.

“If we move the community center to this less expensive area we can save money on real estate.”

“What are your sources on that?”

“I called the mayor’s office.” Despite the current position she was in she couldn’t help but feel a little smug--she’d spent weeks on this and it was good, she knew it was good.

“What about this company building it?” Megatron sounded suspicious.

“Unionized and using materials made in America.”

Megatron patted her arm. “Excellent, Starscream.”

 _Fuck._ Blood rushed to her face before she could stop it and her boss noticed, because _of course she fucking did._

“Are you feeling all right? You’re all flushed.” The teasing note in Megatron’s voice made Starscream shiver, and she mentally kicked herself. _Get it together._

“I just need some air.” She stood up, planning to lean against the hotel air conditioner until her heart rate got back to normal. It wasn’t a bad plan, the hotel room was absolutely sweltering.  
She could explain this away.

Of course, Megatron was still standing next to the hotel swivel chair and they were both wedged between the desk and the bed, and as she tried to get to the window they smacked right into each other. Their eyes met and before Starscream’s brain could kick back online she’d pulled the other woman down by her blazer lapels and kissed her again, awkward and messy, their teeth colliding with a jolt. _Shit._ Her boss gently--too gently, Starscream knew she had to be furious--grasped her forearms and guided her arms back down to her sides. “Starscream--”

“Of course, I completely understand. It was an accident. We can forget it, Senator.” She turned too quickly, knocking a stack of paper off the desk. “God fucking damn it!”

Megatron bent to help her pick them up and their hands brushed. Starscream flinched back, crumpling two of the statistic sheets. “Calm down, Starscream.”

“Don’t you dare.” Starscream jabbed a finger at her, throwing the crumpled paper in the recycling bin.

“Watch your tone.”

“Really? You’re going to lecture me about my fucking tone? After you just--”

“I distinctly recall you initiating it.” Megatron smirked, and Starscream wanted to fucking kill her.

“You--you--Look, I don’t know who you think you are but I am _not_ some starry-eyed idiot who just falls into bed with her hot boss. I’m a fucking professional, so you can stop looking at me like _that_.” She stomped her foot for emphasis.

Megatron raised an eyebrow. “Hot?”

Starscream actually shrieked in rage at that, trying to shove by her and get out of the hotel room. Her stiletto caught on the scattered papers and she wobbled dangerously.  
“Shit!”

Megatron caught her elbow, steadying her.

“Get off me!” Starscream violently shoved her away and practically sprinted for the door. Her hand was actually on the knob when she heard her phone ring and froze, glancing over her shoulder. Megatron held up her phone.

“Looking for this?”

“Give it back.”

“Come and get it.”

Starscream stormed over to her, trying to snatch her phone. Megatron dangled it over her head, forcing her to jump for it. “Are you fucking twelve? Give me my goddamn phone, you stupid--” She finally managed to grab it, but the motion threw her off balance and she toppled into Megatron’s chest. A total rookie move and she’d fallen for it.

Starscream knew that pulling away was the smart thing to do. But she didn’t want to stop feeling the other woman’s heartbeat against her palm. She wondered if this was how it felt when she was on the Senate floor, or rallying cheering crowds.

Megatron stroked her cheek, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing down on the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she flashed back to the two of them on the shooting range, their faces inches apart and the smell of gunpowder in the air. “You’re trembling.” She racked her brain for a retort but it was hard because she felt so _hot _,__ feverish _ _,__ like the Texas heat had gotten into her very skin, like Megatron had gotten into her skin, infected her with some kind of virus that she was paradoxically the only cure for.

"I’m not--you don’t--” She took a shaky breath, trying to focus. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The senator smiled slowly, her expression--well, Starscream could only think of the word _predatory,_ and for once she wanted to be caught, for Megatron to devour her, to make her forget this nightmare of a campaign, her lonely hotel room, her own fucking  _name._  

“Oh, my _dear_ Starscream, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” And then Megatron was kissing her, and she made a noise she didn’t know she was capable of making, some combination of a whimper and a moan. The older woman looked ridiculously smug when they broke apart and Starscream grabbed her blazer again and yanked her down, kissing her back as hard as she could, feeling that same desperate urge to prove herself that she had in campaign meetings, thrilling when she felt the other woman shudder. She had a quip ready but before she could say anything Megatron had pushed her back onto the hotel bed. The way the senator was looking down at her sent another debilitating wave of heat radiating through her body, and even though she was still was still wearing her short tailored red sheath dress she had never felt so completely exposed.

“I--I still hate you.” Megatron bent over her, tugging her head back to expose her neck and nipping at her pulse point. She gasped, and Megatron’s chuckle sent delicious vibrations through her body. “Does that mean you want me to stop?”

Starscream shook her head. “No. Megatron.” The senator’s eyes flashed hungrily.

“Good.” Her phone went off again, and Megatron snatched it out of her hand and flicked off the sound before tossing it off into a corner, where it landed with a thunk.

“That better not be broken.”

“Shut up.”

“What if--” The senator was tugging down the zipper on her dress, tracing aimless patterns over her skin. “What if it’s important?”

“Maybe I don’t feel like sharing my campaign manager with anyone else right now.” She kissed Starscream again before she could retort, and Starscream briefly thought _cheating_ but couldn’t muster any real annoyance, not when Megatron was touching her like she couldn’t get enough. Whoever it was could wait an hour. Or two. Megatron moved back to her neck, using her reactions to hone in on a particularly sensitive area and lavishing attention on the spot. Starscream shuddered at the intensity, letting the pleasure wash over her. Definitely two hours.

________________________

The first thing Megatron noticed about her campaign manager the next day was that she was wearing a scarf, even though it was ninety degrees. Frenzy made the mistake of asking her if she had a cold, and Starscream unloaded on her in a truly magnificent tirade that clocked in at about fifteen minutes and showed no sign of winding down, until Soundwave stepped in and defused the situation. It was good entertainment with her morning coffee, far better than the poll reports she was supposed to be reading.

The day was mostly consumed with phone calls to mayors and reviewing job statistics for the town hall. By the evening, she’d only been able to say a few words to her campaign manager. She made sure she was in the backseat next to her campaign manager as they started the drive there, knowing it was the closest she was likely to get to privacy.

“Where are we with the defense spending numbers?” Starscream looked up from her phone, startled. “I asked you to put together a memo about the use of tax increases to pay for spending. Did you somehow find time in your schedule to do it?”

Starscream rolled her eyes and pulled out a folder, handing it to Megatron with a muttered “Shut up.” Megatron took it, and they sat in silence for a while. The drive would normally have been a a half hour but the current traffic situation meant they’d probably get there in an hour. Starscream was fidgeting already, drumming her fingers against her phone case and shooting glances over at Megatron when she thought that the senator wasn’t looking. Their knees were almost touching, and she moved just slightly closer, noticing how Starscream leaned into the contact. She thought back to the previous night, the way her campaign manager had pressed into even the slightest touches, how she had gasped and bit her lip when Megatron kissed the tattoo on her waist. And now she was biting her lip again as she stared at her phone. It was impossible to resist teasing her. She put a hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “You can relax, you know.”

“Don’t you--” Starscream looked over at Soundwave in the passenger’s seat and lowered her voice, hissing. “Don’t you start.”

Megatron lowered her voice. “I just wanted to reassure you. Nobody can tell what happened last night.” Starscream reached up almost absentmindedly to tug at her scarf, and Megatron reached underneath it, tracing the marks that she’d left there and breathing in the scent of her expensive perfume. “No one knows how much you wanted it.” The younger woman’s face flushed and she stared resolutely out the window. Megatron leaned in so her voice was barely a whisper, breathing the words into her campaign manager’s ear. “No one except me.” Starscream shivered, swatting her hand away, and the senator wished they were alone in the car so she could pull the girl into her lap and kiss her senseless, feel her come apart in her hands.

“We can’t. Not here.”

Megatron nodded, reluctantly pulling away. “Soundwave, can you talk us through this morning’s poll reports?” She noticed a few minutes later that Starscream’s knee had somehow pressed against hers again. The girl refused to meet her eyes, but some of her nervous energy seemed to have ebbed away.

After the town hall, Starscream came up to her with a binder, looking characteristically irritated.

“Soundwave told me to give you this. She said it was urgent.”

Megatron took it, glancing inside, but it just looked like a normal poll report. It took her a moment to notice the room key tucked into one of the pockets.

She looked up at Starscream, but the girl’s face didn’t reveal anything.

“Give Soundwave my thanks.”

“Give them to her yourself, I’m not a fucking messenger pigeon.”

She flounced away, her heels clicking loudly on the tile floor, and Megatron covered her mouth to hide her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s all pour one out for Soundwave, who definitely deserves a raise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Election night! I apologize if you hear CNN's shitty "news update" music in your heads as you read this.

The sun had sunk low in the sky, casting an almost orange stripe across the hotel room through the thick curtains. Megatron refreshed the election results page, mentally cursing the hotel’s horrible wifi connection. Starscream had jumped out of bed the moment they finished and bolted for the shower as she usually did, but she’d been yelling for updates every ten seconds.

“Is anything in yet?”

“The polls closed literally two minutes ago.”

“So? There’s exit polling, and like I told you before, this race is going to be decided in the first hour.” Something clattered and Starscream swore. “Fucking cheap hotel showerheads, I swear to God--”

Megatron took that as a cue to turn on CNN and tune out her campaign manager’s string of profanity. Starscream emerged ten minutes later, wrapped in a towel and checking her phone.

“Nothing yet.”

“We’ll know when they come in. Soundwave will call.”

Starscream glared at her. “Soundwave didn’t stake her fucking reputation on this race being a landslide.” She noticed Megatron’s grin and turned away with a huff, grabbing her clothes off the floor. “What the fuck are you smiling about?”

“You’re the only person I know who actually gets more stressed out after sex.”

Starscream pivoted so quickly that her wet hair actually wooshed through the air and threw the nearest object--a pillow, thankfully--at Megatron. “Are you really thinking about that now? ” She glanced down at her blouse and actually shrieked in rage. “Look at this!”

Megatron was well aware that the blouse had torn as she yanked it over the other woman’s head an hour earlier. She had hoped that she would have been out of the room by the time she discovered it, but it was always entertaining to watch her theatrical tantrums. 

“You didn’t seem to notice while it was happening. I suppose you were distracted?” She raised an eyebrow when Starscream blushed, remembering exactly how she had been distracting her, and then ducked hastily when the blouse and another pillow flew at her head.

“I’m--I’m billing you for this!”

“Fine.” She refreshed the results page. “They’re in.”

Starscream was by her side in a second, damp hair brushing her cheek as she bent forward to see the results.

“Three percent in so far. One percent in city areas. And you’re up by five points.”

“It should be higher.” She could almost hear Starscream roll her eyes.  
“Wait.”

Megatron’s phone buzzed and she picked up. “Soundwave. Yes, I saw. What do you know about city exit polls?”

She watched Starscream grab a clean shirt out of her suitcase and shake it vigorously before disappearing into the bathroom, darting back out to grab her phone. The hairdryer clicked on. Her conversation with Soundwave was thankfully brief, and she pulled herself out of bed afterwards with a sigh, picking her clothes up off the floor with one hand and turning up CNN with the other.

“Ten percent in.” Megatron jumped, turning away from Anderson Cooper to see Starscream buttoning up her crimson pantsuit, her hair blow-dried to perfection. “The results in cities are still at five percent and you’re already ahead by fifteen points. It’s going to be a landslide, just like I told you.”

“They haven’t called it yet, Starscream.”

“They will. And you’ll win.” She reached over to adjust Megatron’s collar, glancing up at her with a triumphant smile. “You should go over your victory speech. And maybe find a suit that wasn’t made in the 1970s?”

Megatron caught her wrist. “Watch it.” She wanted to shove her back down onto the hotel bed, wrinkle the expensive red fabric and wipe the smug little grin off the younger woman’s face. 

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll make you.”

Starscream took a step back, color rising in her cheeks again. “Not now. We have to be down in the convention hall soon.”

“I can be quick.”

“If you mess up this suit, I swear I’ll kill you. It’s one of my only clean ones left and there isn’t a good dry cleaner for ten miles in this hellhole.”

The CNN “breaking news alert” music interrupted. They both turned to the television, just in time to see Megatron’s face flash up on the screen with a check mark next to it.

“So they called it.”

Starscream nodded.“Yeah. You won. By thirty points.” She stared at the results like she couldn’t believe she had actually been right.

Megatron’s phone rang--Soundwave again--and she answered, walking over to where she’d thrown her briefcase.

“I saw. Yes, thank you. Yes, of course. I’ll be down in a moment. You have the email I sent you? Good.”

She looked up to see if Starscream had snapped out of it. She was still staring at the television. 

“See you in five, Soundwave. Over and out.” She stood, grabbing Starscream’s shoulder and giving her a shake. “Starscream.” Starscream turned, still looking stunned, a tiny smile on her face.

“Senator.”

“Go down to the convention hall and get the crowd ready. Afterwards, I want you and Soundwave with me up here. We need to talk transition.”

That got her attention, and her glare returned with a vengeance. “I’m sorry, I’m a _campaign_ manager. The campaign is over now. I have a plane ticket to San Francisco booked for tonight.”

“All right.” Megatron turned back to her briefcase, counting down in her head. Three, two--

“What? Why’d you say it like that?”

“I don’t know. I was _going_ to ask you to be my chief of staff, but if you’re not interested I know Soundwave would stay on...”

She could feel the younger woman’s eyes drilling into her back.

“You’re firing Soundwave?”

“Of course not. I was planning on moving her to the position of policy director. She’s a good chief of staff, but we both decided it would be a good idea to bring some new people on in the upcoming session.”

“And you want me.”

“Yes.”

“For your chief of staff.”

“Yes.”

“Are you _insane_?” Starscream’s voice pitched up again, bordering on hysteria. “We can’t go five minutes without wanting to kill each other and you want to _hire me_?” Megatron looked back at Starscream, who had sunk down onto the bed, determinedly tapping on her phone. Her hands were shaking. “Besides, I don’t do legislative crap. I do campaigns.”

“Oh, I’m sure your brilliant political mind can handle the transition.”

Starscream looked up at her, paranoia twisting her features. “Do you think I’m going to do this because of...because we fucked a few times? Because I don’t make life-changing career decisions based on who I’m screwing!”

Megatron would have loved to keep teasing her, but she was already running late and this was her night of triumph. She’d be damned if she wound up sharing a split screen with Prime because her campaign manager wouldn’t make up her mind. “I would hope you’d have figured out by now that I don’t _hire_ based on who I’m screwing.”

Starscream opened her mouth and then closed it again, staring at her hands before firing her final shot. “Why would I do this when I could be on the beach with a margarita and a stack of Wired magazines?”

Megatron tossed the binder she’d prepared for Starscream on the bed next to her. “Because you want this. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t know you wanted it.” She picked up the folder with her speech and opened the hotel room door, glancing back over her shoulder. Sure enough, Starscream was picking the binder up. She could barely hold back her chuckle. It was going to be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of the campaign -- the next chapter is an epilogue. Hope you guys had as much fun in Texas as I did.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another election night, this time in California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is an epilogue set roughly eleven years after the rest of the story, two years after Who Twist The Plot? (but you don't have to have read that for it to make sense)

“Congratulations, Congresswoman.”

Starscream turned, unsure what the feeling in the pit of her stomach was.. “Did you catch my victory speech?”

“No, but Soundwave got me a draft. It wasn’t bad. Could have been better.”

“It was excellent, and you know it.” She took another drag of her cigarette, looking up at the night sky. Only the brightest stars were visible--she could make out Venus and a reddish one she assumed was Mars. “Any reason you’re not in Texas right now, Senator?”

Megatron plucked the cigarette out of her mouth and held it to her own lips, inhaling. Starscream pretended not to watch. “I’m congratulating my former chief of staff on her electoral victory. Nothing odd about that.”

“Of course not. You endorsed me, after all.” Megatron didn’t say anything, but Starscream could see a shadow come over her face. She deliberately looked away, worried about what she would say if their eyes met. “I mean, yes, I had to blackmail your office to get you to do it, but your speech was excellent. Really locked in the swing vote.”

Megatron shifted towards her, just slightly, and she could feel the tension in her stance. “Did you expect me to applaud after you _left_?”

“I was tired of being your little bitch.” She snatched the cigarette back, needing something to hold onto.

“You wanted to get away from me, so you blackmailed my office to get my endorsement. I’ll admit, that does sound like you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself by thinking it was any kind of fucked-up nostalgia. I needed an endorsement from my former boss or people would be curious. It was purely political.”

“Do you really think things will be so different now, Starscream? My stamp of approval wasn’t free. Maybe you won’t be in the Senate, but all of Congress is mine. If you want to accomplish anything, you’ll need me.”

“Oh, I know. Do you know what else I know? Optimus Prime just won reelection. If you want to stand up to her, you’ll need allies. And how would it look if your former chief of staff didn’t support your legislation? I might be stuck with you, _Senator_ , but you’re just as stuck with me.”

She met Megatron’s eyes, expecting the older woman to be angry, but she looked oddly pleased. “You won’t believe me, but I am proud of you.”

Starscream laughed wryly. “Praise? From Megatron? What a fucking rarity.”

“Starscream...” Megatron took the cigarette back, inhaling and then exhaling slowly. The smoke looked oddly mesmerizing in the red and purple neon lights. “I’ve always seen potential in you. You’re the one who refuses to embrace that, not me.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m valuable. I know that I am.”

“Of course.” She held the cigarette to Starscream’s lips. “I’m telling you anyway.” They stood in silence for a moment, their shoulders just brushing. Starscream could feel the years of late nights and insults and strategizing in the contact. She remembered Megatron looking at her on the shooting range, years ago when everything was different. Even after everything, she could still smell the gunpowder and the hot Texas dust, like they were still caught in that moment. Her chest ached. “Prime’s victory is temporary. Real power in isn’t measured in presidential terms. Soon, she’ll be a footnote in a textbook, and Washington will be mine.” She paused for a moment. “Ours.”

Starscream forgot she wasn’t looking at Megatron and met her eyes, not sure if she had heard correctly. “Ours?”

“For better or for worse.”

The ache rose up in her throat, and she had to swallow hard to get the words out. “In sickness or in health?”

“Till death do us part.” Megatron took another drag of the cigarette. Starscream plucked it out of her hand. She paused, and then slid her hand into the other woman’s, intertwining their fingers.

“Admit it.” she said. “You missed me.”

Megatron squeezed her hand, tightly enough that she knew the answer was _yes_. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re a traitor.”

“And you’re a possessive idiot who relies too heavily on pretentious quotes in her speeches.” But she squeezed Megatron’s hand back. ”I need to get back inside. They’ll be waiting for me.” She hesitated. “Did you tell Soundwave to look up my address?”

Megatron laughed at that. “You released your tax returns, so it’s in the public domain. Is that your version of an invitation?”

“Maybe.” Starscream dropped her cigarette on the ground, crushing it under her stiletto. “We can discuss my transportation bill.”

“It’ll never pass.”

“That’s what you think.” She allowed herself one glance over her shoulder at the senator, silhouetted by the soft neon lights.

__________________

The sun was probably going to come up soon but the ocean was still dark and peaceful. Starscream leaned on the balcony, breathing in the night air. Megatron was still asleep in her bed and she hadn’t wanted to wake her, so she’d swiped her shirt off the floor and ducked outside. She had a flight to Washington this afternoon and she wasn’t sure when she’d get to see the view again. God, she loved California. She felt even closer to the sky here, now, than she did when she was in a plane.

The ocean was peaceful, a constant comforting _whoosh-whoosh_ on the beach miles below, and she watched where it met the sky, letting her eyes unfocus and thinking back over the past few hours.

“Drink?” She turned, startled, Megatron was leaning on the doorframe holding two glasses of wine. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“It looks better on me.”

Megatron smiled at her. Starscream took the glass and turned back to the ocean, deliberately saying nothing. She could sense Megatron behind her, and then warm arms were wrapping around her waist, pulling her close.

“The room’s a wreck.” Megatron kissed her neck, and Starscream contemplated pushing her off--she already had so many marks to deal with--but she was really too blissed out to start a fight over a few more hickeys.

“And whose fault is that?”

“I distinctly recall you snapping to ‘stop worrying about the bedspread and fuck me.’”

Starscream took a sip of her wine, leaning against the older woman. “You better not have ruined my headboard.”

“It seemed pretty durable.” The senator traced over one of the marks on her neck, making her shiver. “You okay?”

“Of course. I’m not made of glass.”

Megatron kissed right below her jaw and she nearly spilled her wine. She felt the other woman’s grin against her cheek, her soft laugh. “So what happens next?”

“Well, I didn’t eat anything at my celebratory party, which seems somewhat unfair but you know how it is.”

“Oh, believe me, I do, Congresswoman.” Megatron practically purred the last word in her ear, squeezing her waist for emphasis.

“Easy, Senator. Anyway, I was thinking...breakfast?”

“I meant longer-term.”

“Oh.” Starscream stared out at the ocean, trying to come up with a suitable answer. “I guess...anything we want?”

“Huh.” Megatron pulled her closer, resting her chin on her shoulder. “I like that.”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's finished. Wow. Um...if you read this and you left kudos or reviews I hope you know that I love you and I'm incredibly grateful for your kindness and encouragement. This has been an amazing experience and I'm so happy I could share it with you.


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